


In The Empire Business

by beer_good



Category: Breaking Bad, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Almost literally crack crossover, Crack Crossover, Crossover, Gen, Post-Episode: s08e03 The Long Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 07:49:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18656095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beer_good/pseuds/beer_good
Summary: Shortly after the Battle of Winterfell, a minor lord has a business proposition for Jon and Dany.Because this is how I cope with big angsty battles.





	In The Empire Business

**Title:** In The Empire Business  
**Author:** Beer Good   
**Fandom:** Game of Thrones/Breaking Bad  
**Rating:** PG13  
**Word count:** 275  
**Summary:** Shortly after the Battle of Winterfell, a minor lord has a business proposition for Jon and Dany.

**In the Empire Business**

"So..." Jon finally asked. "Now what?"

They stood around the pile of blueish ice chips that until recently had been the Night King. Him, Arya, Bran, Dany, a handful of soldiers and minor lords... far too few, and not one of them unhurt.

Arya slowly got to her feet, cradling the hand that had dealt the killing blow. "Now we get Cersei." Her voice was still just a hoarse whisper after the Night King's death grip.

Jon nodded with a heavy sigh. "But with what army? She has the Golden Company, and dragons are terrified of elephants..."

Daenerys, tears frozen on her cheeks, spoke up. "The Second Sons would fight for me. If we pay them."

"About that, Your Grace..." Varys was joining them, the other survivors of the crypt trailing behind him. He gestured at the burning ruins of Winterfell and the tens of thousands of corpses strewn around them. "Your finances are, shall we say, not entirely solid at the moment. So unless we can find a new source of income fast..."

"Excuse me, Your Grace." One of the lords, a bald, skinny, bearded man in his 50s, stepped forward and walked over to the pile of blueish ice chips. "I may have a suggestion… a business proposition, if it please Your Grace. I know it will sound crazy, but I pray you hear me out."

Jon thought he recognized him, but he was too tired. "I'm sorry, Lord...?"

"Walter, of House White in Heisenberg." He scooped up a handful of blue ice with a wicked smile. "Tell me, Lord Snow, do you have the slightest idea of the street value of this...?"


End file.
